GTA of the 1920s
by Godwrites
Summary: Liberty City, the capital of corruption, greed and the bond business. Follow Vito Iantosca as he goes from a penniless street-rat, to millionaire, to locked up in prison for life. Go gentle when reviewing, please, as this is my first story of the category. Rated M, because of the nature of the games, who knows what's gonna happen. Also, yes, there will be bank robberies.
1. Chapter 1: New Beginnings

I was fresh off the boat from the war, the year was 1921. My destination was no other a place than Liberty City. The capital of corruption, greed, and more importantly, the bond business. My name is Vito Iantosca, and I'm not proud of the things that brought me here, but at the same time, I am. This is all true, so it's going to be a long story. Well, I guess you're here because of that reason anyways, so I'll just begin.

I was born in my home-country of Italia, a place where Ancient Rome laid it's capital. A place where the Pope of the Catholic Church lives. A place where I called my home, atleast until I was 8 years old. Escaping the hell-hole that was Europe. When we first came here, we didn't have a nickel to our names, but it all changed that summer of 1921.

World War One, or The Great War, but what I ask you, is what was so "great" about it? I saw men dying left and right and infront of me. I was a Sergeant back then. It wasn't until the Battle of Cambrai when I was wounded. It was a German rifleman who wounded me. Now, this was when I was stupid, and I rushed the Germans. I was then known as "Vito the Victorious" which wasn't a name suited to me. I was only following orders from a Major. In that one rush I made, I killed atleast 10 Germans. That's one thing I'm not proud of. Killing in cold fucking blood.

It was a stormy day. Rain, and no sun out. There was "No Man's Land" infront of me, and trenches behind me. I got up, and charged the position of Germans. While I ran, and I ran for my life, literally. German arty came out of nowhere, and blew me back, atleast 30 feet. I got up, and charged again. This time, making it to the German machinegun nest, killing atleast three of them there. Then, I got into the trench, and killed atleast seven more until I got shot. I remember this moment, as clear as day. He was, maybe 10 feet infront of me. The bullet hit my leg, and he would've shot me again, if it wasn't for the sniper. That sniper, got me out of the trenches. That sniper, saved my life that day. The German's head literally exploded, blood got on me, and all around his dead body. The blood was sticky and wet, which is the texture of blood. Really. I know because of the Germans I killed. I had my M1911 out now, and I crawled, limped, hobbled and whatever else I could do, to get back to friendly trenches. That was where my nickname came from. I beat "No Man's Land." A place where you'll get shot in two seconds flat, I survived it. I beat it. After that, I got patched up, and went out to fight again. This time, at the Marne. That, was a fucking clusterfuck. If you've seen Liberty City, this was 10 times worse. Tanks, planes, cars, trucks, footsoldiers, really anything you could find back then was there. The trenches were full on both sides. The Germans were pushed back to the Marne, and I was known as a hero. I got medals from France and England, and Italia.

I was 25 years old back in 1921. Now I'm 48 years old and I'm in prison. I guess you could ask, "How did that happen?" Well, I'll tell you, it was by fate I guess. My mom and sister were in an area called "Broker." It was a hell-hole, but not as bad as Europe. I just arrived home from France during the Winter of 1920. Actually, it was Christmas day when I arrived home. My father was dead. Dead two years after we moved here. So, that meant I had to pull more than my own weight since I was 10 years old. The answer to why he died will come later. Now, here is where I met a man by the name of Ulysses MacKile. He was head of the Mafia where I were five families, each operating on their own islands. Ulysses ran Broker, Finn O'Brien ran Dukes, Reginald "Rat" Harwick ran Alderney, Alfonso Barreese ran Bohan, and Gerald O'Mack ran Algonquin. He was a man who's britches got too big for his bridge. When Ulysses met me, he saw I was a soldier, and he instantly knew I could kill. Now he's dead, and so isn't Gerald and anyone else Gerald betrayed. Ulysses died of natural causes, happily. Gerald died by my hand. Well, his own, in a way. That's for another chapter.

I guess I'll start out where I was born. I was born on the island of Sardegna, in a town called Alghero. In that case, I'm not Italian, I'm Sardinian, but I am of Italian descent, so fuck off. Anyways, I was born into a small family of five. My mother, my father, and my two younger siblings, one brother and a sister. Sadly, my brother died before his first birthday, when I was four, so that brought hard times upon my family. Anyways, in 1904, when I was eight, we moved to the United States, more specifically, Liberty City. Fucking city of mad men and crazies. I was a kid, I loved playing around and eating candy before dinner. Until my father died. Two years after we moved to Liberty City, he died by 'accident' at his work in a car manufacturing plant. The real reason he died is for another chapter, as I'm not there yet. After his death, I needed money for my family. I worked odd-jobs, like cleaning, and other things. Fast forward six years to where I'm 16. I was a chauffeur for a rich bond salesman. Anyways, he hated my guts and I hated his. My friends were richer than I was, but I only needed my family. I wasn't one of those guys where money comes before family, nor am I now. But that's beside the point. I was friends with a kid named Bonadi, Alfredo Bonadi. He was American-Italian. Born in America, lived in America, but of Italian descent. I was Italian-American. I was born in Italia, and I was of Italian descent, but I lived in America. We were great friends, until the Battle of Cambrai, where he was killed...

_**Author's Note:**___**Hello everyone! I'm new to GTA but I'm not that new. Anyways, I'm here with a story I've been thinking of since a few days after GTA V released. This is set in Liberty City of the 20s. Kinda based off of Mafia II, but not exactly. I mean, yeah, the main character's name of this story is similar to Mafia II's main character, (Vito Scaletta), and Liberty City is based off of New York, where Mafia II is set, but if you got a problem with the naming of the city, complain to Rockstar, not me. Also, since this is my first story of this category, I would appreciate it if you reviewed gently. Thank you again, and don't drop the soap!**


	2. Chapter 2: Meeting a Businessman

**The Battle of Cambrai, France, 1917**

The major was barking orders out at the rate of a typewriter. I was just sitting around until I heard my name fill the air followed by a silence.

"Iantosca!" he barked out, as I walked over.

"Yes?" I asked.

"We're getting our arses kicked! Take a fireteam out and flank the German positions!" he shouted, because there were three German planes and 2 American planes dogfighting overhead.

"That's suicide!" I replied, looking for a way to not get my guys killed in seconds.

"I don't care!" he barked, "You're our only hope of ever pushing back the Germans!"

"Fine." I said, as the dogfighting above ceased, with one German plane shot down.

I loaded up my shit together, and went out to get shot. I waited until I internally counted to three before getting out of the trench and running. Not even two seconds later and one of my men was already dead. Another four seconds and another. I was only halfway there and not even a fourth of my team was left. Then, a German mortar round hit about ten feet infront of me, throwing me up in the air, and throwing me back about thirty feet. I was dazed in No Man's Land. I thought I was dead, and so didn't the rest of the men back in the trenches, until I stood up again, and rushed for the second time. I made it to the German machinegun nest.

Now I was just around the corner of a 60 kilogram killing machine. Spitting rounds at a rate of around 400 rpm, this was not a thing to be taken lightly. This was no small feat either. Getting to the other side of No Man's Land. So, I took my pistol out, a Beretta Model 1915. As an Italian at heart, what other weapon would an Italian have than an Italian-made sidearm?

I poked my head around, and luckily none of them saw me. I shot each of them at point blank range, killing them instantly. I then went through the large hole they had so they could fire the gun. When I was in, I made my way through the trenches, killing only Germans who knew I was here. Finally what seemed like my tenth kill, a German shot me in the leg. I was sure as hell dead, if it weren't for that sniper. With precision accuracy, he took the German's head off. I then proceeded to crawl my way back out of the trench and hobbled back across No Man's Land where men were waiting to patch me up.

**The Second Battle of the Marne, France, 1918**

After my little escape, I was deemed a hero and got medals from Italia, Britain and France. I was able to get back to HQ and get a little bit of rest. After my rest, I quickly went back to the war, where I fought in the Second Battle of the Marne. There was no end in sight of suffering there. German gas attacks, artillery bombardments, and German stormtroopers rushing at the allied positions. I saw a good friend of mine die that day, and I'll never forget it.

There were Germans infront of us, and to the left of us. We were almost surrounded. That's when it happened. A German plane swooped down and shot him up, like Swiss cheese. Well, honestly, you try getting shot by twin machineguns mounted on a fucking plane, tell me how that goes. Needless to say that was the last time I ever saw Alfredo alive.

Anyways, after the war, the U.S. government picked a few soldiers to stay back for the next 2-5 years, (depending how lucky you got), to enforce the reparations we had enforced on them. Now shit, I can guarantee if we didn't put those heavy reparations on them, they wouldn't have risen up and started WW2. Luckily I was only selected to stay for 2 years, so on that Christmas morning of 1920, I was back home. Home to Liberty City. Now, I can honestly say that I would hope the city has changed since I last saw the outside world. If it hasn't, well, all I can say is keep me here until it does, because I am in no way going to go back out into that hellhole again.

Liberty fucking City, I tell you, back then, the cops were corrupt, the hookers were easy, and hell, if you were Italian or Irish, well, you'd have a bad time starting yourself. Well, that wasn't the case with 5 so-called "businessmen." Let's start with my old boss, Ulysses MacKile. Ulysses was a family man, and you could definitely tell that from a mile away. He was quoted as saying, "I did this, all of this, for my family." before he died peacefully in his sleep. The head of the family that ran my side of the street, Broker. I feel like I'm having deja vu for writing all of this again, but like I said before, there were five mob bosses. Each of them hated each other secretly, but they wouldn't tell each other that in person. The day I met him, it was like any other day. I just woke up and was going to go for a walk, but then two men stopped me. Dressed as cops, they told me they wanted me down at their station. I mostly believed them, and got in their car! Ulysses was in the car with us. I sat in the back right, and he sat in the back left.

"Vito Iantosca." he said to me, "I know who you are, do you know who I am?"

"Yeah." I said back, "You're Ulysses MacKile, the man who owns most, if not all, of Broker."

"Smart kid." he smiled, "Listen, I have a bit of a job interview for you."

"Where and when?" I asked.

"3:00 is the time. Meet me in the Statue of Happiness." he said.

"I don't have a car." I said.

"I'll have a guy pick you up." he smiled, as he opened my door.

After I got out, he said "Don't be late!" as his guys drove off.

I kinda waved back and just walked around trying to occupy myself until his 'guy' came and picked me up. When he did, I was kinda relieved. I mean, it's not everyday you just get approached by two dudes dressed as cops and talk to a mob boss without getting shot atleast once. Anyways, I went to the Statue of Happiness where I met Ulysses, and he said we could go a long way together, as long as I don't cross him, he won't think of crossing me. As he was very sincere with his little speech, I decided I would, infact, work with him. If it wasn't for the two men blocking the exit armed with a Springfield M1903, I probably would've still said yes.

_**Author's Note:**___**Hello everyone! It's me again, bringing another chapter in this GTA series. This time, Vito is back from the war, and he meets the mob boss for his area of Liberty City, Ulysses MacKile, _without _ being shot dead. I hope you enjoy this, and please, I would like to see some reviews on here. Thank you for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3: Shopping and Shooting List

The first other boss I met was Finn O'Brien. Irish, like Ulysses, he was a rowdy bastard wherever he went. Always wanted to start a fight. Too bad he died in a car chase with cops. That, again, is a story for another time. I then met Alfonso Barreese. Italian, like me. A man who owned most, if not all, of Bohan. He very stupidly didn't pay his taxes, and was wanted for tax evasion. When the cops came knocking at his door, he put up a very big fight, with guns and knives and everything. At the end of the day, he, along with his whole 'inner circle' were dead. Then came Reginald "Rat" Harwick. The black sheep of the bunch. He was the one who started a secret drug business, smuggling opiates and coke and heroin in. And, no, not coke as in Coca-Cola. I'm talking legit cocaine. All of these men were nothing compared to Gerald O'Mack. Gerry, the one I had to kill myself. Well, along with half of Ulysses' inner circle, including his right-hand man. You remember the 'cop' driving the car? Yeah, that's the guy. Solomon "Butcher" Pobles. A fellow Italian, we got along together perfectly.

"Vito, come to my townhouse in Hove Beach." he said on the phone, "It's on Mohawk Avenue."

"How am I supposed to get there?" I asked him.

"Vito, I'm not paying you to be stupid. Just, take a fucking car." he said.

"Carjack?" I asked, as I never thought I would carjack someone.

"Sure. My guys do it all the damn time." he said, "I'll be waiting."

"Alright." I said, without further comment, as I put down the house phone.

I went outside, and tried to find a car. The first car I did find, luckily for me, was parked. An Albany Washington. I then drove down to Hove Beach where his townhouse is, and I found it with relative ease. The only problem was the cops. I almost thought they would pull me over, but they didn't. When I knocked on the door, Solomon answered it.

"Hello Vito." he said, "Bossman told me to ask what car you jacked."

"Albany Washington, cream coloured." I said, tilting so he could see behind me.

"Shit, you gotta love the Albany." he said happily.

"And how." I said, "Anyways, is bossman in?"

"Yeah." he said, "Right this way."

I followed, intrigued by what Ulysses owned. He had some awesome stuff. Like, a piano from Texas back in the 1800s that was in mint condition. A grandfather clock, also in mint condition. He also had a smoking hot wife, if I may add, and a daughter, about my age.

"Vito!" I heard him shout, "I'm glad you could join us."  
"Thanks." I told him, "So, what's up?"

"That can be saved for later. As for right now, meet the family." he said, showing me around and introducing me to his wife, Jenna, his daughter, Allisa, and his son, Ulysses jr. He also introduced me to his nephew, who fought in WW1 also, and his father, who fought in the Spanish-American War. I knew to not mess with him now. As if I wanted to before. Did I mention, if not, I'll tell you now. Man has 6 cars. All gold. If that doesn't show you how rich and powerful this man is, I have no idea what will. But, yeah. 6 gold cars.

He then led me to his study where he told me, "You and Solomon are going to take a trip to the gun store. Get a gun, and then you're going to go after someone. Once you get the gun, call me. There's a payphone out front."

"How do you know all this?" I asked.

"Vito, there are things that will come to you when you get richer, trust me. Like ladies, places to own, places to see, families tearing apart. It all comes down to the fact that we're all alone."

"Alright." I said, getting my coat and walking out.

"Hey, don't forget!" he shouted at me, "Make sure the guy you take..." At that moment, two cops on patrol overheard and wanted to see where he was going. "Him out to get shot up!" he smiled, waving at the officers. The cops waved back and went on their ways. Solomon, already in the passenger seat, said, "You drive."

I got in, and we went off to the gun store. We had small talk, nothing to talk about, except for the weather, and stupid shit like that. When we finally arrived, I got out of the car, and went inside. But before I could, Solomon stopped me, and said, "Say this to the counter. Nice shoes. He'll know what you're doing."

I then went inside, and saw the guy at the counter, and said to him, "Nice shoes."

He smiled and said, "Follow me to the back." I did, and I saw him standing behind a counter with guns. Lots of guns. I picked up a 1911, and he said, "That's free. Paid for by Ulysses himself."

"Really?" I asked, "What about ammo?"

"Also free." he smiled, as I smiled back. After that was said and I got the ammo, I went outside to meet Solomon already at the payphone.

"What took so long?" he asked, joking around.

"Nothing really." I smiled at him, "So, get out the way of the payphone so I can call Ulysses."

"Alright." he said, as he stepped aside to let me use the payphone and I called Ulysses.

"Hey Vito." he said, "The guy you need to kill is in BOABO. He drives a red Truffade Z-Type."

"Alright." I said, then to Solomon, "Let's go." as I hung up the phone and got in the cream-coloured Washington I stole.

After I got in the car, I asked him, "Why did I get this thing for free?" I asked.

"Well, you know how Ulysses is. Buying things and shit."

"He owns the shop?" I asked.

"Yeah." he said, "He also owns the apartment buildings where we sleep, he owns the townhouse and the cathouse."

"Broker Cathouse?" I asked.

"That's the one." he said, when we got to a house with a red Z-Type in the open garage.

"This the place?" I asked.

"Seems like it." he said, "Let's do this." he said, reaching for a shotgun.

We walked around for a bit, before spotting him get into the Z-Type. We trailed after him for a bit, before he got out in a Perseus clothing shop. I followed him in, 1911 under my coat pocket, mask on. I then pulled the 1911 out of my pocket and shot him. Three times. Once in the leg, once in the stomach, and then once in the head. Then, I ran out of the store and into the car. Since the car was stolen, hopefully they'll go after the other guy, rather than me. I didn't wait around, I peeled out of there and drove as far away as I could go. When I was sure we weren't followed by the cops, I drove back to Ulysses' house, to give him the news.

"I'll go tell him." Solomon said, as he got out of the car, "You go back home, maybe get this thing fixed up. Shut the garage door this time. Alright?"

"Yeah." I said to him, "But, I don't have any cash."

"Oh, shit." he stammered, "Right, bossman said to give this to you, if you succeded." he smiled, holding out $500.

"Shit, thanks." I told him.

"No problem." he said, turning around and walking up into Ulysses' home. I heard some cheering come from Ulysses and Solomon, before driving to the Bohan City Customs to get the car fixed, resprayed, and maybe even a new plate. When I pulled up, the guy offered everything at a discount.

"This place is owned by Ulysses, right?" I asked.

"Yeah." he said, "How'd you know that?" he asked, as he pulled a gun on me.

"Easy, put the gun down. I'm on your team." I said to him.

"Alright." he said. "So, what'll it be?"

"I'm thinking of getting a few things." I said, "A respray, a new plate, and get it fixed."

"Alright." he says, refitting a bumper on and fixing it up. Then, he resprayed it to a black colour. And then he got me a plate, where I was able to put my own private lettering on it. So, I put down 'Wasn't Me'. I admit, it was funny at the time, and I got a kick out of it. So, I kept it until I got more cash.

_**Author's Note:**___**Hello all you crooked criminals! Godwrites here again with another chapter of GTA in the 1920s. Vito kills his first target in America rather than Europe today, and gets his first paycheck. Also, he gets his first car, gun, and his first visit to Bohan City Customs. Please, like and review this story. Until next time!**


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